| I went down in Old Joe's barroom | |
| On the corner by the square | |
| Many drinks have been served as usual | |
| And the usual crowd was there | |
| On my left stood Joe McKennedy | |
| And his eyes were bloodshot red | |
| When he told me that sad story | |
| These are the words that he said | |
| When I went down to St James infirmary | |
| To see my baby there | |
| And she was stretched on a long white table | |
| So cold, so white, so fair | |
| Copy paste is a sin, always on the run is better | |
| Oh let her go, let her go, God bless her | |
| Wherever she may be | |
| She can search this wide world over | |
| She'll never find another man like me | |
| Sixteen coal black horses | |
| To pull that rubber tied hack | |
| And there's seventeen miles to the graveyard | |
| And my baby's ain't never very well | |
| Well, now that you've heard my story | |
| Well, have another round of booze | |
| And if anyone should ever ask you | |
| I've got the St. James infirmary blues | |
| Let her go, let her go, God bless her | |
| Wherever she may be | |
| She can search this wide world over | |
| She'll never find another man like me | |
| Let her go, let her go, God bless her | |
| Wherever she may be | |
| And she can search this wide world over | |
| She'll never find another man like me | |
| No she'll never find another man like me | |
| She'll never find another man like me |
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